Make Yourself at Home
by dejulonia
Summary: Holly and Gail have been spending a lot of time together. What happens when Gail gets a little too comfortable? (Set somewhere around 4x10)


**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or these characters. I just like to think about them often. **

**A/N: Massive thank you to both my girlfriend and Imke (GleeSavedMe) for giving this a quick read before I posted it.**

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_Your place. Seven. I'm bringing dinner._

Gail was not the subtle type. Holly hadn't needed more than a day of her company to figure that out. Her bluntness was a welcome change from the long, dreary, seemingly endless waffling of paperwork and expert witness testimonies. It was refreshing to spend time with her, and lately, Holly hadn't been able to get enough. So when the clock struck quarter to seven and she was still tethered to her desk wrapping up a report, her heart sank. After an exhaustive search of her desk, she managed to find her cellphone wedge under the toxicology results she'd been pouring over.

_Running late. I'll be there as soon as I can. _

_You know where the spare key is. Make yourself at home. _

It was after seven when she finally loaded up her bag and lugged it to her car. She hadn't received a reply to her message, but it was Gail. If she hadn't called by now, she'd gotten it. That woman waits for no one. In the short ride home, Holly could already feel all of the crap from her day melt away. Just knowing that her favourite blonde was waiting for her was enough. Holly tried to not to focus on the insistent voice in her head, pestering her about wishing she could come home to Gail every night. The last thing Holly needed was to misjudge another connection in her life by confusing friendship with something more. _Friends._ Friends who get together most free nights to the week to drink, eat good food, and watch good films.

It was closer to eight when she finally walked in the front door. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Dead bodies don't care much about my social life," Holly didn't even bother to look up as she dropped her bag at the door and shrugged out of her coat. When her greeting didn't get a response, not one remark about how she could hardly count _this_ as a social life, she looked up. Empty. The room was empty. The TV was off. The couch untouched. Everything was just as she had left it this morning. Throwing her jacket over the back of the couch, she hesitantly stepped further inside. Upon spotting takeaway boxes and an open bottle of wine on the bench, her confusion grew. There wasn't much more beyond the main living space.

Figuring Gail was in the bathroom, Holly poured herself a glass of wine and sauntered to get into something more comfortable, and, frankly, smelt a little less like death. She took her time, but when she returned to the living room Gail was still nowhere to be found. The bathroom door was close. The apartment was silent. Holly didn't like where this was going. What if something had happened? What if she'd been changing while Gail was passed out on the other side of that door? Holly knew better than most that terrible thing happened everyday. "Gail?" she called out, knocking on the door, only half expecting a reply at this point. There was a soft hum of recognition. "Are you okay in there?" she questioned, getting an affirmative murmur in response. Holly wasn't convinced. She opened the door just a crack. She had to check, she had to know. "Gail, are you–" Holly was shocked into silence. For a brief moment she caught the look of pure relaxation, her head tilted back, her ivory skin flawless against the bubbles. And then her eyes shot open. "Holly!" Gail jerked in the bathwater, splashing some over the sides in an attempt to cover herself. For a minute, Holly didn't know what to do. Her eyes wide were in surprise. Her brain had short-circuited, leaving her body unresponsive in the aftermath. "I–uh–you–I mean–leaving!" Holly managed to splutter out, before her awkward limbs stammered to life. Only with a door between them did her brain clamouring back to life. Gail was in her bathtub. Relaxing. Naked. And on top of that, Holly had managed to walk in on her. Naked.

How was someone supposed to handle a situation like that? It had suddenly become that much harder to think of Gail as a friend. Their banter was always closer to flirting than disagreement. They'd slept in the same bed on more than one occasional. They'd kissed at the wedding, a stupid, tipsy move on her part. And now Gail was taking bathes in her apartment. Friendship was far from what Holly was thinking about. In her dazed state, she'd somehow managed to find her way to the couch and, more importantly, her wine.

Gail eventually emerged from the bathroom. The tips of her fair hair darken with water. Her expression was closed off. Her eyes were a shallow blue. She shuffled silently around in the space behind the couch, her barefeet soundless against the carpet. Holly didn't dare turn and watch. She didn't dare speak. Instead, she polished off her wine at an alarming rate. Gail noticed. The whole situation was messed up. She didn't know what to say. What was there to say after something like that?

Holly was almost certain that Gail would leave. To her surprise, she could hear movement from the kitchen rather than the entrance. Gail was reheating their dinner. The brunette smiled into her empty glass. After some clattering, and a beep or two from the microwave, they were on the couch together. For someone so good with words, Holly was alarmingly quiet. "There are other ways to see me without my clothes on, nerd," Gail said, having to break the silence, but regretting every word of it. Eyes wide, surprised by her own remarks, she busied herself with their meal. "I–uh–I don't," Holly stumbled over her words for the second time that night, but stopped herself before she outright lied. She was going to say how it wasn't like that, that she didn't want to see the officer naked. That would be a lie though. "Did you have to give me a heart attack in the process?" Gail quickly added, sensing Holly's struggle, if not by her faltering words, then the crimson tint in her cheeks. Settling a food container on the coffee table in front of them, the blonde set about pouring more wine. Alcohol was essential if the conversation was going to continue like this. Holly raised an eyebrow at that, taking food from the blonde, and letting Gail pour her another hefty glass of wine. "So you think _I'm _trying to get _you _naked? This coming from the woman who's evidently trying to get me drunk," Holly retorted, gesturing at her nearly overflowing glass.

"I call 'em as I see 'em," Gail replied coolly, trying to restrain her smile. Everything was okay. The tension notably dissipated, and they finally got their evening together started. "That wasn't quite what I meant by make yourself at home," Holly voiced minutes later.

"How was I supposed to know that?"


End file.
